It Never Entered My Mind
by JDSampson
Summary: The boys are off to the Jersey Shore to investigate a "Martian Mindreader" performing at a local carnival. But when it appears that she CAN see the secrets locked inside their heads, things get dicey and soon it's more than just Blue Book secrets that are being spilled.


PBB: It Never Entered My Mind

_Once you warned me that if you scorned me  
I'd say a lonely prayer again  
And wish that you were there again  
To get into my hair again  
It never entered my mind_

_\- Rodgers and Hart_

Doctor Allen Hynek entered the Project Blue Book Office while Quinn was on the phone. Talking to one of the Generals, no doubt because he was standing at attention. Straight back, chin up, eyes forward.

"Yes, sir. We'll handle it. It will be off the front page by morning. Yes, sir. Thank you, sir." Quinn hung up the phone and instantly his body returned to loose and lanky.

"He can't see you, you know," said Hynek as he hung up his coat and hat.

"Can't see me?"

Hynek whirled, straightened and saluted. "The General. He can't see that you're at attention or at ease when you're on the phone."

"Don't you bet on it." Quinn grabbed a half-finished cigarette from the ashtray, took a drag then blew the smoke into the air. "And don't get comfortable. We're wheels up at zero nine thirty hours."

Hynek glanced at his watch and did the math. Barely enough time for coffee and the mail. "Don't tell me where we're going." He stepped directly in front of Quinn's desk, closed his eyes and pressed his fingers to his temples. "I'm going to read your mind. I see an ocean. A long stretch of beach. California? No, it's overcast and gloomy. New Jersey. And I see a carnival with rides and a sideshow."

"Once again, you're hilarious."

Hynek opened his eyes when a newspaper hit him in the chest. It was folded back to the same story he had read over breakfast. "Martian Mindreader Makes a Monkey Out of Mayor."

"Journalism in America." Quinn sat back in his chair while he finished his smoke. "So apparently this carnival sideshow cutie decided to titillate the crowd with romantic memories from the Mayor's mind. All about him and his hot, blonde wife. Only his wife is a cold red-head and now she has grounds for divorce."

"Titillate, huh?" Hynek arched an eyebrow at his partner.

"What? It's a perfectly good word. Now, if this was any other soap opera, it would be up to the lawyers but because said carnival cutie claims to have inherited her mind reading abilities from her Martian father, it's on us."

Hynek dropped the newspaper on Quinn's desk then went back to his own. "I read the story and she's not claiming to be the daughter of a Martian. She says her father was from Alpha Centauri but since most of the world just hears 'outer space' when you say Alpha Centauri, she's automatically misclassified as a 'Martian'."

Quinn stabbed out his cigarette as he gave the Doc his patented, 'are you nuts' expression. "Doc, she's misclassified as a Martian because she's 100% human. It's a grift. A sham. It's all done with shills in the audience and code signals and a little psychology thrown in for good measure."

Hynek leaned forward, hands folded in front of himself on the desk. "Try reading my mind."

Quinn rolled his eyes. "You're thinking, you know all of this already so why am I talking to you like you just fell out of a spaceship yesterday."

Hynek tapped his nose.

Quinn got to his feet and started stuffing belongings into his pockets; cigarettes, lighter, wallet, candy bar. "I'll save you the strain of trying to read my mind and just tell you that it's time to go."

"Are we going to keep this routine up all the way to NJ?"

"Nah, let's switch to 'who's on first', I always liked that one."

"What?"

"Second base," said Quinn without hesitation. "Let's go."

They caught a transport plane flying out of Wright Patterson bound for McGuire Air Force base in New Jersey.

They landed in sight of a brand-spanking new F-86D Sabre and Quinn was drawn to it like a hungry teen to a hamburger. "Would you look at this? She flies near the speed of sound. Pilot in California broke a record with her clocking 698.505 mph at only a height of 125 ft. Do understand how nuts that is? Man, what I wouldn't give to take her out for a spin."

"Let's concentrate on the ground for now. I'm tired and we still have a long drive ahead of us."

"Be there in ten minutes if we took the Sabre."

"I think the Air Force might frown upon that and the town already thinks aliens have landed so let's not give them anymore fuel for that fire."

A freckle-faced Private appeared carrying two traveling cases, one under his arm and one in his hand so he had his other hand free to salute Quinn. "Captain, sir. I have car waiting for you and I'm authorized to drive you to your destination."

"Are you even old enough to have a driver's license?" said Hynek.

"Been driving a tractor on the farm since I was 10."

Which didn't answer the question, but he let it go.

"I'll drive," Quinn said, tearing his eyes off of the fine figure of a jet airplane. "Just put the bags in the car, give the Doc here a map and we're good to go."

The boy didn't hide his disappointment. "Oh. I _was kind of_ hoping –"

"That you'd get to meet the Martian girl?" Quinn shot back unsympathetically.

"My cousin Vinny saw her and he said she is one ding dong dolly. She's green and she sparkles and when she touched him he felt this electric shock run through his whole body, like he was jitterbugging on the inside. Then she read his mind."

"Wow, that must have been awkward," Quinn whispered to Hynek as they headed for the car.

"And she told him his future. She doesn't always do that but she said he was special."

"I'll bet," Quinn mumbled.

"Stop it," Hynek harsh whispered back.

"That's the car," the private said, pointing to the only vehicle within 1,000 yards of where they were. "I'll put your cases in the trunk. Check the front seat. I got a map there and directions for when I thought I was driving."

"Yeah, again, sorry about that," said Quinn. "Already have enough trouble keeping track of one partner. So, out of curiosity. What did the Martian girl say was in your cousin's future?"

"She's not a Martian," Hynek corrected with a frustrated sigh. "Even if you believe her story, she's a Centaurian and only half at that because her mother was human."

Quinn offered up his best, 'would you please stop' look, then turned back to the private. "Your cousin's future?"

"She told him that he was going to come into money, and it was going to change his life. And guess what. It happened just like she said." He waited for them to be impressed and when they weren't, he finished the story. "A week later he robbed a grocery store and made off with two hundred dollars. Cops caught him an hour later and now he's doing 10 years in the state pen."

Quinn couldn't prevent the snort of laughter that burst from his throat. "That's brilliant. Maybe she really is a Martian?"

"A Centaurian!" Hynek corrected.

"Oh, for God's sake." Quinn held his hand out for the keys as he gave the shiny jet one last wistful long. "Why fly when you can drive."

# # # #

They drove for several hours until they reached the small beach town located mid-way between the well-known Atlantic City and the locally popular Wildwood. Both of those towns had thriving entertainment venues with no need for a small, traveling troupe like The Cosmic Carnival.

The boys got their first look at what they were headed into when they pulled over in front of a garish, roadside billboard. The Cosmic Carnival is Out of This World! The top corner of the poster featured a bug-eyed monster doing battle with a spaceman while flying saucers hovered nearby. Green jagged lettering promised that the Straight from Space Sideshow was not for the feint of heart. Rides for the kids! Heavenly treats! And don't miss the mind reading Martian girl who will captivate you with her beauty and frighten you with all she knows.

Her likeness was in line with what the young Private had described, a pretty young woman with green skin, a fall of thick, curly red hair and eyes with painted sparkles in each corner.

"Whoever came up with this whole thing is a genius," Quinn said as he took it all in. "He plays on our country's current obsession with outer space, gives them the expected carnival scare with the creepy sideshow exhibits and then brings it home with beautiful girl who'll send men into orbit with her smile."

"Poetic but I don't think it's genius at all," Hynek said with little appreciation. "The people we've talked to who had some kind of encounter are all terrified. It's an unnerving experience and certainly not what you'd call fun but these people have turned it into a form of entertainment!"

Quinn gave him that look. "Doc, have you never been to the movies? Day the Earth Stood Still? The Thing from Another World? Flash Gordon?

"Science FICTION movies? No, thank you."

"You're such a snob." Quinn checked his mirrors then pulled back on to the road. "The movies. This carnival. They're safe zones. It's a way for people to face their fears without having to actually face their fears. Look, I get why the Generals want this story off the front page, but I'm not going to enjoy debunking a mind reading Centaurian." He glanced to his right, saw Hynek start to correct him, then realize there was no need. Quinn laughed. "See, I listen."

"There's a first time for everything," Hynek replied.

Quinn laughed again and the smile went all the way to his eyes. He wasn't sure if the stiff and starched Professor had loosened up over time or if he'd just learn to appreciate the man's dry sense of humor.

A little of both, he decided and for no reason at all, he reached out and gave Hynek's shoulder a playful shove.

# # #

Faye, the Blue Book secretary had booked them a room at the Sandman Motel just off the beach. It was a typical two-story structure with doors all opening to the outside. The motel was easy to spot thanks to a 40-foot sign featuring a whimsical or maniacal (depending on how long you looked at it) genie sprinkling sand over a sleeping (and blissfully unaware) man.

Quinn parked near the lobby, got out, stretched and filled his lungs with salty, Jersey shore air. "Flew over this ocean a million times but I think this is the first time I've ever smelled the air."

Hynek filled his lungs as well but again, was not impressed. "I prefer the Great Lakes."

"Of course you do. I'll check us in," Quinn nodded toward a phone booth. "Go call home."

Hynek appreciated the reminder as he'd promised Mimi he'd be better about calling the moment he arrived in a new location. He couldn't always – or didn't always want to tell her where he was but simply hearing his voice on a regular basis had lessened the frantic counter attacks he often received when he forgot to call home for days in a row.

He patted his pockets and there was Quinn's hand holding dime in front of his eyes. "Thank you. I have a jar full of change at home, but I always forget to put some in my pockets when I get dressed."

"Mmm," was Quinn's only verbal response. He seemed annoyed. There had been times where the phone calls to home had left Quinn anxiously waiting because they had to be somewhere and fast. But this wasn't one of those times. They had several hours to kill before the show and since Quinn would be busy checking in anyway, it was perfect timing – for once.

Allen felt compelled to say, "I won't be long" to Quinn's back as he walked away.

"Don't be," Quinn shot back without turning. "I want to change out of this uniform and get something to eat, so clock's ticking."

The clock was always ticking. Allen stepped into the phone booth and dropped the dime.

# # #

Quinn gave himself a mental kick for giving Hynek attitude about the phone call home. He had meant it to come out as a friendly reminder but even to his own ear it sounded annoyed. The professor did pick the most inopportune moments to get on the phone, so there was a precedent, but this wasn't one of those times. This was actually the most relaxed assignment they'd ever been given: a literal trip to the beach. So let him call home and get it out of his system. Then they could both focus on the task without unnecessary distractions.

Mimi Hynek wouldn't appreciate being called an unnecessary distraction, but the way she pulled on her husband, begging him to abandon his duties and return to the mundane life he'd been living. . . it wasn't right. The doc loved his new job and would probably spend 20 out of 24 hours a day solving the great puzzle that lay before them if he didn't feel obligated to go home to his wife.

Quinn shook it all out of his head as he stepped into the office. There was an elderly man behind the counter. He stopped his busy work and smiled wide at the new comer.

"Checking in, I suppose," he said jovially, "cause if you were checking out, we would have already met and you're a new one."

"I have a reservation under Quinn."

"Lieutenant is it?" He asked, pointing at the insignias on Quinn's uniform.

"Captain. Air Force."

"Was in the Navy myself but I never could remember what all those buttons and bows meant. Got me in trouble with the brass a few times but I still never learned." The man checked his book. "Here we go. 1 Room. 2 Twins for you and a Doctor Hynek."

"That's right." Quinn picked up the pen that was chained to the desk to sign the register.

"Your wife was the sunshine in my day when she called to make the reservation, let me tell you. Things were all upside down here with a convention rolling through town and I kept having to put her on hold but she was as sweet as pie about it. You tell her I said so."

Quinn finished signing then spun the book around to face the clerk. "That was my secretary. I'm not married. But I'll tell her."

"Handsome young soldier like you, not married? Color me surprised." The man handed him two keys attached to plastic tags. "Room 204. Upstairs. Two down on the right. Need help with your bags?"

"No. I'm fine. Good place to eat?"

"Mabel's. Same street about three blocks up. Easy walk but she's got parking. Best crab cakes in all of South Jersey."

"Mabel's it is." Quinn gave the man a nod – kind of the civilian version of a salute – then went back out into the fading daylight.

Hynek was still on the phone but watching. He signaled with a swirling motion that he was trying to get Mimi to wrap it up. That gave Quinn time to get their bags out of the car. He waited another minute wondering if he should just go on ahead. He was about to do that when Hynek hung up and joined him.

"Sorry. Joel stayed home from school sick with a cold and she's convinced it's going to turn into pneumonia." He took his bag from the Captain and fell into step beside him on the way to the room. "I don't know what's gotten into her lately. She never used to be such fatalist and now we have a bomb shelter and double deadbolts on the door."

"Can't really blame her. The world's a scary place right now and she's got a child to protect."

Hynek stopped walking forcing Quinn to stop and look back at him wondering what he'd said.

"I am also concerned about my son's wellbeing." Hynek said, clearly hurt by the implication.

"I wasn't saying otherwise. I'm just saying it's tough being a mom."

"Especially one who is home alone without her husband much of time."

Quinn groaned. Not this again. "Can we focus on the job? Please?" He found the door marked 204.

The room was crowded with furniture and the beds weren't made. No big deal, he'd mention it to the clerk on their way out.

"If you don't mind," said Hynek, "I'd like to shower before dinner."

Quinn glanced at his watch. "Show starts in two hours and I want to eat, so don't dawdle."

"Yes, mother." Allen took off his suit coat, tie and shirt and tossed them into a heap on the unmade bed. He pulled fresh clothes and a shaving kit out of his overnight bag then went into the bathroom, leaving one shoe after the other marking a path to the door.

"That is not how you treat your clothes," Quinn muttered as he stripped off his uniform. Unlike his partner, Quinn treated each piece with respect. His coat and shirt went on hangers in the closet. Pants were folded in a way that wouldn't disturb the sharp crease and hung over the back of a chair. He sat down to carefully unlace and slip off each shoe, buffed a bit of dirt off one then lined them up in perfect parallel beside the chair. He would have liked to have a shower as well but there wouldn't be time, even if Hynek did hurry – a thing he wasn't likely to do. So, Quinn slipped into a pair of dark wash, rolled cuff jeans and a clean white t-shirt.

He dug into his bag for a shoulder holster which he put on with ease. Another few minutes to inspect his gun before seating into the holster then he covered it all with a lightweight, blue bomber jacket. The last thing out of the bag was a pair of loafers. He was just putting these on when the maid knocked on the door.

"I'm so sorry about the beds, sir. We're short-handed, convention, may I make the beds up now?"

"Sure." He stood aside for her to come in. She started on the bed closest to the door while he searched his original coat pocket for a pack of cigarettes. Only two left. He pocketed the pack along with his lighter and wallet.

Quinn tapped on the bathroom door then opened it so he could be heard above the running water. "Doc. I'm going to the lobby for some smokes. Meet me down there in ten minutes."

"Alright," Allen yelled back, undulating figure silhouetted against the ugly, yellow floral shower curtain.

Should he tell him? Probably, as the girl was already frazzled enough. "And Doc, the maid's out here making up the beds so don't go parading around naked or anything."

"Alright," Allen yelled again. Quinn waited for what he knew was coming. Sure enough, Hynek's wet head peeked around the edge of the shower curtain. "The maid is naked?"

Quinn rolled his eyes and repeated his original sentence. "Ten minutes. I'm not kidding. Or I'm going to dinner without you."

"Ten minutes," said Hynek.

It was twenty, but at least Quinn had a fresh pack of cigarettes.

# # #

To Allen Hynek, a sky full of stars on a clear night was the most magical sight in the world.

To Michael Quinn, the most magical sight in the world was a carnival after dark.

He was mesmerized from the moment he stepped out of the car. The bright colored lights, the combined sounds of whirring machinery and hurdy gurdy music, the smell of roasting peanuts and sugar in a dozen different forms.

"I am twelve," Quinn said around the widest smile a person could manage.

"Noisy," Hynek counted. "And would you look at that!" He grabbed Quinn by the arm and dragged him over to a "space ship to Venus" ride. The backdrop was a large painting of the solar system. "They have Venus where Jupiter should be! This is terrible. There are children here."

"And I'm sure that a bad painting at a carnival is going to override everything they ever learned in school. Please don't suck the fun out of this for me."

"This isn't supposed to be fun. It's work."

"Can't it be both? Besides, it's better if we blend in. Incognito." Quinn practically skipped away to check out a sneak peek of the 'Straight from Space' Sideshow.

The sideshow barker had an enormous lizard on a leash. The creature was jewel blue with a sparkle to his skin. He had a long frill down his back and what looked like an Egyptian headdress around his face.

"This little fellow miraculously survived when his space craft crashed in the Great Smokey Mountains. The brave souls who found him also found the remains of humanoid creatures no bigger than a five-year-old child. The question is, who was in charge? The aliens or this fellow, right here?"

"Seriously?" Allen said loud enough for the barker to hear. "It's a sailfin lizard and I assure you, he doesn't have a large enough brain pan to fly a complex aircraft."

Quinn gave the professor a sharp shoulder shove. "Incognito, remember?" He whispered harshly.

"I understand your skepticism," the barker continued without concern. "I hear it every night when we bring this beauty out for all to see. But when you take a gander at what's inside the tent behind me, you will be a believer and all it'll cost you is one fourth of dollar. Just one quarter and you're going to see the alien bodies recovered from that crash. You're going to see pieces of the actual ship that crashed in Roswell, New Mexico – you've all heard of that one – and. . . " he paused and waited for the crowd to near the edge. "You are going to see something that will haunt your dreams." He lowered his voice, forcing them all to get quiet and lean in. "You are going to see the actual machine aliens use to dissect the humans they kidnap from our planet. It is not for the weak of heart. Ladies, I beg you all to stay behind, because what we have to show you in this very tent will horrify you like nothing else ever has."

Hynek growled under his breath, "Why would anyone—"

"You're gonna get us thrown out of here. Come on." Quinn nudged him to get moving, past the sideshow stage and beyond the food stalls to the main tent. A man was standing on a small platform enticing people to buy tickets for $2 a piece.

The man was over six feet tall and bone thin. He had black hair that was long enough to cover his neck in the back and he had a sharp bone structure that looked like his features had been chiseled out of marble.

"Her father came from outer space and fell in love with a human woman," he said with a distinctive accent. "Together, they created this miraculous child with a special gift. Her name is Cadence and she can see what is on your mind and if you are one of the chosen few, she might just tell you what the future holds. The show starts in five minutes, so hurry in and take your seat."

Quinn leaned closer to Hynek and said softly, "that accent. . .Russian?"

"Definitely."

"Interesting." Quinn paid for two tickets, went inside and claimed two seats in the back by the entrance.

Within minutes, the place filled to capacity and they could hear the accented man turning folks away.

"She draws quite a crowd," said Quinn. "And I'll bet that newspaper article helped sell a few tickets."

The lights in the tent dimmed and shifted to an eerie blue as whiny Theremin music poured out of the speakers on either side of the stage.

The curtains at the back parted and Cadence came into view.

She was a less exaggerated version of the billboard art but still quite striking. She was dressed in a sparkling silver, curve hugging jumpsuit with faux gem stones around the neck and wrists. Her red hair was loose, tumbling past her shoulder blades in back and her skin was green and sparkling with embedded glitter.

About half the audience applauded while the other half passed due to skepticism or sheer awe.

"That outfit doesn't leave much to the imagination," Quinn said, enjoying the view from all sides as she strutted across the stage.

"It is so wonderful to see you all here. I can feel the energy radiating from each and every one of you and it fuels me. We're going to have such a good time together tonight and though I'll only be able to become intimately acquainted with a few of you, I hope you'll all be thoroughly entertained."

The music switched from high pitched space squeal to a relaxing soft jazz number. "Dimitry," she said, addressing the accented man. "Who wants to join me on stage tonight?"

"First, I have a young couple who drove all the way here from Florida just to see you." Dimitry led the duo to the stage. She was barely out of her teens and he a little older. They were both well-tanned and athletic. A good-looking pair.

"Nice kids. I hope they're still a couple when she gets done with them," Quinn whispered.

"Welcome, both of you. Come stand on either side of me and take my hand." They positioned themselves, all three now facing the audience. "What are your names?"

"You're the mind reader," a heckler yelled. "Don't you know?"

"Pipe down," the young man snapped back.

"Oh now, Andrew, don't worry about him—"

"Andrew!" The girl squealed. "That's his name!"

Cadence leaned into the girl until their heads touched. "And you are. . . " She closed her eyes and drew in a deep breath. "Patty? No. . . Polly."

"That's right!"

"You came to see me because you're struggling with a question. . . or is it an answer. . . " She looked from one to the other, leaning in here and squeezing a hand there. "It's both. The question is 'will you marry me?'"

"Yes!" Polly squealed and the audience came alive with chatter and a smattering of applause.

"Oh, but we're not done yet. There's still the answer in the air." Cadence let go of their hands then walked around each one lightly running her fingers over their shoulders and up to their temples. "She said yes. . . "

"But I don't believe her," Andrew blurted out. "She has a chance to join a very prestigious dance troupe, it's all she's ever wanted but now she says she'd happily give it up just to marry me."

"I told him –"

Cadence silenced her with a stop sign hand. "Andrew, if I can tell you what she's really thinking, will you go through with the marriage?"

"Of course. I just want to be sure that she's not lying to save my feelings."

Hynek nudged Quinn then nodded toward the end of the row. Everyone was sitting on the edge of their seats, eyes locked on the stage, fully immersed in the experience. "She's got them completely enthralled."

On stage, Cadence was gently pressing her hands to Polly's face and then two fingers to her temples. The music got a little stronger and a little darker but probably no one noticed. It was all part of the design.

"I have it. Polly loves you and she loves to dance but she never wanted the pressure of being in a troupe, traveling the country. That was her mother's dream for her. All she really wants is to settle down with you, open her own little dance studio and raise a family. That is her dream."

"Then it's true!" Andrew and Polly embraced and kissed and the audience cheered and applauded. Polly was all tears as she hugged and thanked Cadence profusely. "You're invited to the wedding! And I may even name our first child after you."

Dimitry stepped up on to the stage. "We love a happy ending." He escorted the couple off the stage then quieted the crowd with the promise of something even more amazing. "Cadence. Would you do the honors?"

"Tonight, we have two very special guests in our audience, and I hope you can persuade them to join me here on stage." A bright spotlight kachunked to life and the beam fell on Hynek and Quinn. "Ladies and gentlemen, The Cosmic Carnival is honored to have the spokesmen for Project Blue Book right here in our humble tent. May I present Astrophysics professor, Doctor Allen Hynek and Air Force Captain Michael Quinn."

"So much for incognito," said Quinn, shielding his eyes from the intense spotlight.

"There's no better way to prove that she's a fake than to let her read our minds." Hynek stood, confident that he had her beat but for the first time since they'd been given the assignment, Quinn wasn't so sure. They both had information in their heads that needed to remain hidden from the world but that was silly.

Obviously, a ringer in the audience had fed her Andrew and Polly's story so she could accurately "read" their minds. And while Hynek might fall for practiced trickery, Quinn had been interrogated by the SS. If he could keep from cracking under that kind of pressure, he'd have no trouble making Cadence look like the phony she was.

As she had with the young couple, Cadence lined the two of them up on stage inserted herself between them but there was no immediate handholding.

"Project Blue Book, for those of you who don't know, is a military program that investigates aerial phenomena. Or, to put it more simply, flying saucers, lights in the sky, aliens etc. You've probably seen some of their cases in the news; the lights over Lubbock, Texas. The Flatwoods monster and more." She smiled at one and then the other. "I'm not reading your minds, just the newspapers. You could say I have a vested interest in finding out whether I'm really half alien or not."

The audience laughed and Quinn felt a little better about the situation.

"Plus, you made hotel reservations under your actual names, so we knew you were coming."

Interesting, tactic – the truth.

"But now," the lights dimmed and the music went all dark and moody. "It's time to find out what's inside your minds. Are you ready?"

The crowd got a little too behind the idea for Quinn's liking, but he figured he could play along for a bit before stopping her cold.

"Let's start with Captain Quinn, shall we?" Cadence rubbed her hands together like the stereotypical bad guy in an old silent movie. "Last week, I probed the mind of a man who was consumed with passion, sadly, not for his wife."

Another laugh. She was good. "I think we'll stick with the topic of passion." She walked around him like a cat circling a mouse she was about to eat. "Since you're not married, we're safe."

Quinn held his hand up to the audience and pointed to the lack of ring on his finger. No mindreading here, just an eye for detail.

She stepped in front of Quinn and held her palms up but away from his chest. "May I touch you?"

"Anywhere you like," he replied and that got a titter out of the crowd.

"I'll do my best to keep my hands away from your gun."

That got a roar from the crowd. Since they couldn't see the firearm under his jacket, they took it as a dirty euphemism, but it left Quinn wondered if she'd actually seen the concealed weapon and wanted him to know that she wouldn't be careless with her caress.

Cadence set her palms flat against his chest and closed the space between them to only a few inches. She was shorter than he was, which required her to tip her head back in order to look up and into his eyes. She did that briefly, smiled, then tipped her head down again as her hands roamed over his chest, shoulders and down his arms.

"Oh, my yes, you have it bad. Try as you may, you can't get her out of your mind. She can take you places you've never been. Feel things you've never felt. She's sleek, powerful, a little cold." Cadence moved around behind Quinn giving him a chance to exchange glances with Hynek.

The Professor was looking very confused, and oddly, a little hurt.

Her fingers crawled up his back and when her nail scraped the nape of his neck, he shivered. "You want her so badly, but you're not sure you're man enough to handle her. You'd never admit it, but I can see deeper than even you can, and I know it's true."

What the hell?

Her voice had dropped to a lower register and slowed to a rhythm that was both tantalizing and hypnotizing. "How sweet would it be if you could show her who's boss," One hand rising to caress his face, other at the small of his back. "You're thinking about what it would be like if you could slip inside of her. Hard. Fast."

A mild electric shock in the small of his back. He gasped and snapped to attention.

WHAT THE HELL?

The audience wasn't laughing anymore. They were riveted. Shocked. Dying for more.

She pressed her fingers into his temples and leaned into his back. Quinn was glad she was behind him or she'd be getting messages from more than just his mind.

Suddenly a clear image popped into his head. "Jesus! You're talking about the Sabre! A jet!" She giggled but everyone else was still back on 'hard and fast'.

She broke contact and took center stage. "Captain Michael Quinn is an Air Force pilot and his one true love is a shiny new airplane that he saw when he landed here today. All he's wanted to do since he saw her, was jump into the cockpit and see how fast she can go."

Nervous giggles turned into roars of laughter as the audience members realized that they'd all been sweetly taken in.

Quinn to Hynek: "Are you blushing?"

"It's warm in here," he shot back. "I'm just a little overheated."

"Aren't we all," yelled a man in the second row.

"Your turn, Dr Hynek."

"Good luck, pal," said Quinn.

"Don't worry. You are married so we'll steer clear of any adult subject matter and concentrate on what else you have locked away in that brilliant mind. May I touch you?"

"As long as you promise to keep your hands off my gun."

Quinn almost choked. Every time he thought he had the man down cold. . .

"You two make quite a pair." Cadence laid her hands on Hynek's chest. "You're very tense. Relax. I promise I won't hurt you."

"Seriously? You jolt me with a couple of volts but him you won't hurt?"

She threw Quinn a look. "Maybe you deserved it for the things you were thinking that I couldn't say out loud. Now hush, it's his turn."

Properly chastised, Quinn settled into an easy pose to watch the show from his vantage point.

Cadence started caressing and Hynek began to sweat. It was hot under the stage lights but that wasn't the cause of his discomfort. He was probably thinking about what his wife would do if she ever got wind of this little caper.

As if on cue, Cadence said, "Your wife. . . .Phoebe. . no. . Mimi she doesn't like you running all over the country searching for aliens."

"No, she doesn't," Hynek said, stuttering a little.

"But your son, Joel. He thinks its. . . . neat." Hands over his shoulders and around to his back. She was silent for a moment, running hands over his arms, fingernails dragging along the back of his neck.

Quinn smirked when he saw the shiver.

"You're a bit harder to read than your friend. Lots of science double talk in here," she ruffled his hair. "I could repeat it but none of us would understand." The audience was growing restless, this game wasn't anywhere near as titillating as the one they'd played moments before.

"You've been looking up to the stars for a very long time, searching for something. . . " Her voice dipped and Quinn moved a bit closer so he could still hear. "There's something more there. . . something I can't grasp."

Hynek's chest rose and fell and he wavered slightly as if falling asleep on his feet.

"There's an ache, a longing for something you haven't had. . . no. . . felt in a long time."

Quinn stepped closer still like there was a string between his chest and Hynek's and it was growing shorter every second.

"It's hidden behind a wall of numbers. Facts and figures." She started to waver too. "If I can just. . . " She was in front of him, fingers pressed to his temples while his head lolled forward, chin nearly to his chest. "I see it!" That was a shout and it woke Quinn from his stupor.

And suddenly all Quinn felt was frightened. "Stop!"

"NO! What is that?!" She bowed back as if trying to break the bond between them, but her fingers were glued in place. "That!" Her voice dropped to a deep, low growl. "Is NOT a god damn monkey!"

Quinn flew at. Grabbed her wrists and yanked her roughly away from his partner.

The audience filled with chatter, some annoyed, some confused, some assuming this was all part of the act.

Quinn let go of Cadence so he could catch a crumbling Hynek and it was Dimitry who kept her from hitting the floor.

"End the show, now!" Quinn ordered in a harsh, 'don't mess me' whisper.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I must ask you all to exit the tent. Cadence has clearly delved too far, and her strength is exhausted. I am sorry to end the show so abruptly, but I hope that you'll enjoy all the other treats our carnival has to offer."

Two members of the carnival troupe began herding the crowd out of the tent. They were moving fairly fast but not fast enough for Quinn. "We need to talk, somewhere private!"

"The trailers, out back," said Dimitry. He led the way supporting much of Cadence's weight.

Quinn thought he might have to do the same for Hynek but when he offered an arm of support the professor brushed him away.

"I'm fine. It was just mild form of hypnosis. The lights, the music, the sound of her voice. I'm fine now."

"Yeah, maybe." Quinn nudged Hynek to move and he did, faltering at first but steady by the time they walked off the back of the stage.

Dimitry led them to an Airstream trailer that had another painting of the Martian mind reader on the side.

It was a little crowded for the four of them, but they made it work. Dimitry perched a hip on the counter with Cadence sitting nearby on the stool in front of her makeup table. Quinn guided Hynek to sit on the small couch while he chose to stand.

Quinn remained silent while he fished out and lit a cigarette. Part of the stall was so he could chew over his next words. Part of it was an interrogation tactic. Trained by the best.

He snapped the lighter shut with a flick of his wrist and pocketed it.

"I can—" Quinn cut Cadence off with a look and pointed finger. He opened his mouth as if to speak and they all held their breaths waiting for a tirade. Instead, he blew out a gentle stream of smoke through twisted lips, then willed himself to settle.

When he did finally speak, his tone was flat, his voice was soft, and his words were carefully chosen. "Before you explain, let me explain something. If I have even the slightest indication that you are a danger to this country, it will be my duty and my pleasure to place you under arrest and drag you back to Ohio with me in irons. Do you understand?"

"Bully," Dimitry snorted. "You push her into this and then you threaten to arrest her."

"Shut it," Quinn snapped. "I can take you in just for being a Rusky."

"Captain," Hynek chided wearily. "Let them talk."

"Fine." Quinn snagged a chair from the dining set in the front of the trailer, he spun it around, set it in front of the door then sat down backwards, arms balanced on the back. The position required him to spread his arms, which opened his jacket enough to reveal the gun in the shoulder holster. "Tell us how it's done."

"You're smart men," said Dimitry. "You know how it's done."

Cadence took over. "Andrew and Polly, the young couple? His mother wanted them to get married, but her son was sure his finance was lying so as not to hurt his feelings. Mom saw the show and suggested they come ask me to 'read her mind' so he could be sure. She told me everything and I fed it back to them. Simple."

"Almost all of our information comes from family members or plants," Dimitry chimed in. "The Mayor, his 'wife' called and told us all about their love life, said she wanted to play a little trick on him. But the trick was on us because it wasn't his wife, it was his mistress trying to make trouble."

"I don't care about any of that," Quinn grumbled impatiently. "Our family members didn't set us up. So how did you work it?"

With tensions fading just a bit, Cadence smeared makeup remover on her face and began wiping away the green paint and sparkles. "You set yourselves up. You made a hotel reservation with your real names, for heaven's sakes. We knew you had to be coming here to investigate my claims. We had almost a full day to do our research." 

"We found the cases you investigated in old newspapers at the library." Dimitri again and the back and forth was giving Quinn a headache, not to mention following the story through the man's thick accent.

"But you said things that you couldn't read in the paper," Hynek chiming in. "Like Quinn's love for that new jet."

"You ate at Mabel's." Cadence tossed a green tissue into the trash, checked the mirror for spots she'd missed, then continued wiping with a fresh tissue. "We pay the waitresses there to keep their ears open and tell us bits we can use in the show. Hilda heard you going on and on about that plane you saw at the base. And you told the desk clerk you weren't married. No ring isn't always conclusive."

"The waitress also heard Doctor Hynek refer to his wife and son by name. He also spoke about some technical things that she couldn't understand. She tried to explain to us what she heard but it was all very jumbled so that's what we had to go with."

"And then you embellished," said Hynek as he wiped his glasses with a handkercheif. "Saw me as the odd professor with the angry wife who gets buried in his work. Thus the loneliness. The longing. Seemed like a good bet, right?"

"It's what I saw," Cadence said with a sigh.

"What does that mean?"

The words were barely out of Quinn's mouth when Dimitry jumped to her defense. "She reads people. It's why she good in the act. She understands. . . " He fumbled for the word.

"Psychology," said Hynek. "Human behavior."

The same thing that made Quinn good at his job, ironically. But none of that could explain the last words out of her mouth. Quinn took another drag on his cigarette and willed the ache in his stomach to go away.

"The last thing you said. Where did you get that from?"

"The last thing?" She seemed genuinely lost but he'd seen her act and knew she was good.

"That's not a god damn monkey," said Quinn.

Hynek reacted as if he was hearing it for the first time and that added a new level of concern. "She said that? Those words exactly?"

"Exactly. And she didn't get that out of a newspaper or from an informant. So where did it come from?"

"I don't know. Some words just pop into my head, I can't always control it."

"Bullshit!" Said Quinn. "You're lying to me and that means you're coming with me."

"No!" Dimitry slid off the counter and grabbed her hand. "Caddy, what are you doing? Tell them, where it came from! Who gave you that information?"

"Hynek did! It came from his mind!"

"Captain," Hynek said sharply as he got to his feet. "Can we talk?" He nodded toward the door.

Quinn pulled a face that said he was done talking but then he stood and tossed the chair to the side. He threw it with more force than he meant to. It hit the wall and tipped over banging into the dining table before ending up sideways on the floor. "Sure. Let's talk." He opened the door to the Airstream and stepped out into the night air.

The carnival was still going strong with lights and music spilling over the large tent between them and the attractions. Quinn kicked at the dirt on the ground then threw his nearly finished cigarette into the dirt for more stamping and kicking.

"You aren't honestly thinking about turning her over to the Generals are you?" Hynek said, coming up behind him. "You know what they'll do to her! They'll tear her apart."

Quinn whirled and jumped when Hynek was only inches away. "It's not up to me. She just accessed classified information and handed it out to unauthorized civilians. That's treason."

"It is not, because there was no intent. She didn't know what she was saying. No one in that tent, except for the two of us understood the reference."

"Okay, so she didn't tell the world about Von Nazi's secret rocket program, but she got close enough. Which means, it's not a parlor trick. She read your mind!" Quinn shrunk back a bit, realizing the ramifications of his own statement. "Jesus! She read your mind! Don't tell me she's really half Martian and don't hand me that Centurion crap, you know what I mean!"

"You really need to learn how to control your temper. It's not healthy to get so angry all the time." The words came out of Hynek's mouth as a soft mutter. As if he was making a mental note.

Quinn shook his head and held out his hands in a 'what the hell are you on about' gesture.

"She's not an alien," Hynek said confidently. "She's just. . . gifted. There have been hundreds of credible reports of clairvoyants through the ages. In the 1700's, the Marquis de Puységur wrote extensively about a mentally challenged man who was able to speak fluently and diagnose diseases just by coming in contact with other people. Granted, most studies in the field have been inconclusive, putting off any positive results as nothing more than random chance but –"

"Doc! You're making my case for me, you realize that?"

"I need more time. I have to run tests in a controlled environment. I -"

Wild screams made him stop mid-sentence. Multiple voices, screeching, yelling combined with the thunderous sound of people running.

Quinn turned toward the open alleyway between the main tent and a game pavilion. People were dashing back and forth across the space. "What now!" As they often did, Quinn ran toward certain danger and Hynek followed.

They cleared the building and stepped out into the main drag. There were only a few people in sight, and they were the ones that had climbed up on top of a ride or other elevated object. Automatically, both men looked up to the sky, but the cause of the commotion was down below.

A deep, throaty roar brought their gaze down and to the left where a full-grown lion was strolling along the midway.

"Crap." With practiced ease, Quinn slipped his hand under his jacket, unsnapped his holster and drew his weapon. He aimed it at the approaching animal all too aware of the moms, dads and children that were still within reach of the lion and / or any bullet leaving Quinn's gun. He'd have to let the animal get a lot closer before he could safely take it down.

"No! Don't shoot!" Cadence wrapped herself around Quinn's arm dragging it down with the weight of her body. It was only his years of training and experience that kept him from accidently pulling the trigger.

"Back off!" He fought against her to get the gun back into play and then Hynek was in the mix.

"That's Samson. He's not dangerous!" Cadence sucked in a labored breath and lost her balance. One arm fell away while the other grabbed on to Quinn, not to stop him from shooting but like she was desperately seeking out a lifeline.

_P__anthera leo_

Quinn heard the word in his head then he heard Dimitry yell, "Delilah, get control of that beast!"

Samson and Delilah. Of course.

And then it was Quinn who couldn't catch his breath. The water was rising, and he was shivering, exhausted from fighting to keep his head above. He calculated the rate of the rise and the size of the room and figured he only had a few minutes left. A few minutes and no way to tell him what he so desperately wanted to say. No chance of rescue. He'd known it but tried not to think about it. And now, with his water-soaked clothes pulling him down – the fear was paralyzing, worse than he'd ever felt and now the pressure on his lungs, the ache in his heart – no chance to say goodbye.

Cadence's body snapped to attention the way Quinn had done a million times since the day he joined up. Her eyes rolled back in her head and she started to tremble with the force of a hundred electrical jolts.

"Let go!" Hynek pulled her away from Quinn and laid her flat on the ground where she continued to convulse. He took off his jacket and put it under her head for some small amount of protection.

"What's happening?" Quinn asked, finally finding his voice.

"Seizure. Does she have these often?" That was directed at Dimitry.

"No. Never. Not like this. I've seen her shake on stage, her head snapping back like that, but I always thought she was acting, embellishing to create more drama in the show. I didn't know. . . "

"Those were petit mal seizures. This is a grand mal. It's disturbing to watch but it'll pass." And even as he said it, her body began to calm. "It's best not to intervein when she's convulsing but you can take her back to her trailer now."

Dimitry scooped Cadence's limp body up into his arms and carried her back down the alley to her Airstream.

Hynek followed leaving Quinn to scoop the professor's jacket up off the ground. He shook it out to rid the fibers of the dirt and debris that came up with it and that small action sapped him of the last of his strength.

He fell into step behind Hynek like a man walking his last mile. Water rising. Hard to breath. No hope of rescue. What the hell had he seen? A premonition of his own death? It didn't feel right, which was a ridiculous thing to even think given the circumstances, but Quinn had to think it. Had to work it out before he lost his own mind. The longing. The regrets. They were both feelings he was intimately acquainted with. No hope? He'd been there, too. But it was the panic that didn't sit right. It wasn't that he'd never been that afraid, that close to death. Early on in the war, his plane had been shot down. He'd been captured. Questioned. . .

Tortured.

Fear. Panic. He knew how those things felt in his own body.

Speed of the rise, times the size of the room, equals time left to live.

Oh, god. "Hey Doc?" He could barely get the words out.

Hynek turned and saw something in Quinn's expression that made him frown. "What is it?"

"What's the science term for a lion?"

"Science term? You mean the genus and species?"

'Sure, why not?"

Hynek stepped closer examining Quinn like he was a curious bug under the microscope. "Panthera leo. Why?"

Quinn couldn't breathe. "Just wanted to get it right for the report." He handed Hynek his coat. "I'm going to stay out here and have a smoke. When she's feeling better, have her change out of that costume and into some traveling clothes. She leaving with us tonight."

Hynek didn't argue.

With shaking hands, Quinn shook a cigarette loose and pulled it out of the pack with his lips. Lighter. Light. No snap this time. He closed his eyes, threw his head back and sucked in the first hit of nicotine. It wasn't as joyful as he'd hoped.

No joy. Not after what he'd just seen in his head. As much as he wanted to deny it, Captain Michael Quinn had to face that fact that he'd just witnessed the death of Doctor J. Allen Hynek.

# # # #

By the time they reached the motel, Cadence was fully awake. She walked to the room under her own power, albeit with Quinn and his gun very close to her back.

"May I have your permission to use the bathroom?" She asked, barely masking the tears.

"Of course," said Quinn. "I'm not a monster. I'm just doing what I have to do." He watched her walk into the bathroom and heard the snap of the lock. There was a brief moment where he wondered if there was anything in the little room that she could use as a weapon on herself or them, but he had more important things to ponder.

"Doc, right before she had the seizure, was she touching you?" Quinn wearily slipped out of his coat.

"Touching me? I was pretty focused on the approaching lion so, I'm not really sure. Why?" Hynek patted his pockets, took off his coat and turned it nearly inside out.

"Just something I saw in my head, it was strange."

"How so?" Hynek dropped to the floor and peered under the bed.

Seriously? Why did he always have to fight for the man's attention? "What are you looking for?"

"My notebook. It's not in my jacket. It's always in my jacket." Hynek went to the closet and searched the floor.

"Your notebook? The one you're incessantly writing in?"

"With all my case notes. Yes!" he said absently. "I'm sure I had it at the carnival, but I didn't take it out to write any notes. Things were so. . . chaotic."

Quinn cursed under his breath. "You folded your coat up under Cadence's head. When you walked away, I picked it up and shook it out. It must have fallen out of the pocket."

Hynek ran for the door. "I have to go back and get it. If that fell into enemy hands—"

Quinn hooked the Professor's arm before he made it to the door. "Whoa, wait. Hang on. Did you write about the god damn monkey in the book?"

"Yes, of course. I started a brand-new notebook on that assignment, and I wrote all about what happened there. What we saw."

An almost irrational wave of relief ran through Quinn's body which was completely counter to the panic Hynek was feeling. "The maid! Remember? You were in the shower. I left to go get cigarettes. She had, what, ten, fifteen minutes in this room to look around? To find your notebook and read the first few pages?"

"The beds weren't made."

"Exactly."

"No. When I came out of the shower, she was just stripping the first bed. So, what was she doing the rest of the time? I have to find that notebook."

"Fine, great, but you know what this means. She's no psychic. That was the only missing piece and we just filled in it."

Hynek started to leave, turned back. "So why did she lie? Why did she tell us the truth about all the other bits but lie about that one?"

"I don't know, but while you're gone, I'm going to find out."

This time it was Hynek who hooked Quinn's elbow. "That tone is a bit disturbing."

"Tone? Go find that notebook before YOU end up facing charges of treason."

Hynek didn't let go of Quinn's arm. "Did something happen between you?"

"I'm just tired of being lied to. Her, the Generals, the US Government – even you!" That made Hynek let go and the pained look on his face made Quinn hurt inside. "I'm sorry." He dropped a hand on Hynek's shoulder and squeezed. "She may not be a mindreading Martian, but she still got into my head. Go get the book before someone else finds it. I won't do anything rash." Like stabbing a fork into her hand. "I'm so tired, we'll probably both be asleep by the time you get back."

Hynek was skeptical but the clock was ticking. The clock was always ticking.

"I won't be long." Then he was out the door.

Quinn whirled and leaned his back against the solid structure. He instinctively reached for a cigarette, but the pack was in his coat which was two feet away too far to bother. All he really wanted to do was lay down and close his eyes. But first. . .

He knocked on the bathroom door. "Come out of there, please."

"I'm not done," Cadence replied. Running water in the sink just to prove it was true.

"You are done. Don't make me shoot the lock off."

The water stopped. The lock popped. The door creaked open. He backed up so she could pass.

"Where's Doctor Hynek?"

"He had to run an errand."

Cadence moved fast and lightly, around to the far side of the far bed. Like a scared deer trying to escape the headlights.

"Jesus, am I really that scary? Just tell me the truth. Where did you get the line about the monkey? From the maid? Did she tell you what the Doc wrote in his notes?" There, he gave it to her. All she had to say was yes and it would all be over. If she wasn't psychic, there was no reason to take her back to the base. If she wasn't psychic, then he couldn't have seen a premonition of death.

"We have paid the maid for information in the past but she was a wreck this week. She kept getting the rooms mixed up because of the convention rush. I was hoping she'd find something on the two of you, but she came up empty. Whatever I said, it came from Doctor Hynek's mind. And that's the truth."

Quinn seriously considered throwing something. Instead he paced, one hand holding the bottom of his holster, the other moving as if there was a cigarette between his fingers. "I don't understand you. I gave you an out."

"Now you WANT me to lie? I'm done! I just want to know why I'm like this and I think Doctor Hynek is the only person who can figure it out. Am I really the daughter of an alien? Did this happen to me because of an accident at birth or something I ate when I was a child? You have no idea what it's like being able to hear what others are thinking. I heard my mother thinking about taking another drink. My friend saying, she has to go home for dinner while thinking she can't stand my company anymore. My boyfriend in high school – he told me he loved me while he was consumed with the image of my best friend with her blouse off in the back of his car! When I heard my boss thinking about the money he had embezzled, I knew I could never lead a normal life." She sat down on the bed furthest from him. "Oh, yes and then there are the people who figure it out and want to use me for their own gain. That's why I joined the carnival."

"Hiding in plain sight," said Quinn.

"Like a magician who can really work miracles. If people believe in him, they won't let him rest. But if he saws a woman in half and pulls a rabbit out of his hat, then everyone accepts that the real magic is incredible, but still just part of the act. I'm like the bearded lady in the sideshow. I can be who I am, and I'm praised for it instead of persecuted."

Quinn sat down on the side of the other bed, elbows balanced on knees. This was a new line for her. A sympathy play. Feel bad for me, I'd had it rough. Like Mary Astor in The Maltese Falcon, coming up with a new story every time Sam Spade gets closer to the truth.

"The instruments of darkness tell us truths, win us with honest trifles, to betray's in deepest consequence. MacBeth."

"You read Shakespeare?"

"It was a long war. You know what it means?"

She shook her head no as she slipped down to lay on top of the blankets on the bed.

"It means our enemies win us over by telling us just enough truth to make us think they're on our side. So when it's time for the big lie, we believe it without question and we're done for. Get some rest. It might be the last good night's sleep you get for a long while."

"You're awful," she said softly. "I don't understand how he can care so much for you."

"Go to sleep." Quinn slipped off his shoes and removed the shoulder holster. He slid back so he was sitting up against the headboard and set the holstered gun at his side. He closed his eyes for a second and knew it was a bad idea. He needed to stay awake until Hynek came back so one of them could keep an eye on the girl.

"You're his fighter jet." More soft words. "Making him feel things he's never felt before. The confidence he lacks. The command. Jealous. Envy. Things he needs to say but you might not look at him the same way and he can't bear to lose you."

"Stop. Talking."

She shifted on to her stomach, head on the pillow but turned toward Quinn. Eyes closed. Sound asleep but still her lips continued to move. "And you can't bear lose him, either."

# # #

Quinn startled awake and instantly cursed himself for having fallen asleep. Day light was streaming through the window. He rolled to the right. Cadence was still sleeping on the other bed. She was tucked into a tight knees-to-chest position, still on top of the covers even though it had gotten colder during the night.

The phone rang and he realized that's what had woken him in first place.

"Quinn," he mumbled more out of habit than a proper response to the time and place.

"It's me."

Me? Oh. "Doc. Where are you? Did you find the notebook? Why didn't you wake me when you got back?"

"I never got back." Not his usual clipped and factual self.

Quinn felt sick. He threw his legs over the bed and sat up. "Where are you?"

Silence. Other voices muffled and indistinct. A ragged breath. And that? A sound he recognized but couldn't place.

"Doc. What's going on?" The sharp tenor of his voice woke Cadence. She sat up slowly and dragged her fingers through her tangled red hair.

"Is that the Professor?"

Quinn stood, grabbed the phone base and carried it with him as far as the cord would allow him to go. His eyes were on the floor, seeing nothing as he concentrated hard on sounds coming from the other side.

"He won't do it." Hynek but not into the phone. Spoken to whomever he was with.

Again, that sound and this time Quinn recognized it. A fist hitting flesh. The painful rush of air that came after it. "Doc! Just talk to me!"

The bed creaked.

Quinn whirled and shot Cadence a look that said, "don't you dare move".

"They want you to let Cadence go. She's to take a cab back to the carnival. You're supposed to stay in the room and wait for another call. If you do that, they'll tell you how to find me."

More soft voices behind him, giving further instructions.

"If you leave the room, they'll know. They won't call. And if you don't find me by noon - " Hynek swallowed so hard Quinn could hear it through the phone.

No need for him to say it. 'If I don't find you by noon, you'll be dead. Drowned, just like in the premonition. "I'll fix this."

Another shuddered breath from Hynek and then so softly, "but you can't give them the girl. I know that."

"Who's behind this? That god damn Russian?"

No answer. Hynek was gone.

"Dimitry wouldn't." Cadence half crawled, half scooted backwards on the bed, pulling the blankets up around her as if that bit of fabric might protect her from an enraged and frantic Michael Quinn.

Quinn wanted to rip the phone out of the wall and throw it through the window. But he needed the phone and he needed to calm down. When you were flying a plane in a war zone, panic could you get you killed. Panic here could get his partner killed. He set the phone down and forced himself to do the breathing exercises he'd learned in flight school. Slow your heart rate. Take deep breaths. You can't think without oxygen.

"On my own," Cadence mumbled. "Have to think . . . think. . think. . like Quinn. Mimi. Joel. Michael. Michael. Michael."

"Do NOT mess with me right now." Quinn had never hit a woman, but she was getting on his last nerve with her mind games. "Tell me who's behind this? Where are they taking him?"

He grabbed Cadence by the arm and she convulsed as she'd done back at the carnival.

Over exposed images popped into his head. A car. Two men. Guns. Fear shredding his insides like a hundred sharp knives cutting through flesh. Quinn tore his hand away and stumbled backward. His legs bumped the other bed and he fell to sitting.

"How did you do that? How can you connect without touching him?"

"I don't—"

"Don't tell me you don't know!"

She scrambled off the other side of the bed, to get out of his arm's reach. The blanket went with her leaving only the rumpled top sheet and . . . .

Quinn pulled the small, spiral notebook out from under the sheet. Hynek's notebook. He hadn't lost it at the carnival. It had been here the whole time, probably hidden by the maid who couldn't get caught reading it when Hynek came out of the shower.

"This is his. What he left here last night to find, god damn it!"

"I was laying on it," she said softly. "Personal objects help me connect and when there's a lot of emotional energy in the room, it magnifies. I don't know why. It just does."

Emotional energy – like the adrenaline spike due to an approaching lion or the gut-wrenching fear that came with facing death.

Quinn scrubbed his hands over his face once and then again. He could do as they instructed but that wouldn't guarantee Hynek's safe return. That would be putting his partner's life in the hands of an unknown enemy and Quinn didn't like giving up control.

"Call Dimitry," he demanded. "Tell him that if ever wants to see you again, he needs to bring Hynek back here now and then I'll think about letting you go."

"I told you, it's not Dimitry. It's Tommy Barone."

This was new.

"Who the hell is Tommy Barone?"

"He's a pig. He's a Luciano by marriage. Always trying to show the family that he has what it takes to be the boss one day."

The family? Luciano? All vaguely familiar but he wasn't getting it.

"The mob out of Atlantic City," her voice was stronger now. "They send people to the show and I dig around in their heads and find out things. Are they loyal? Are the skimming? Are they talking the law?"

"You've been helping mobsters clean house? Are you nuts?"

"I didn't have a choice. They don't ask you for favors. They tell you. I should have known he wouldn't let me go. I have too many secrets in my head." She crossed her arms over herself, but it didn't stop the shakes. "Politicians, criminals, scientists and soldiers – if you could see the crazy secrets. . . . I just want it to be done!"

Again, with the poor me routine, but this time, for the first time, he believed her truth. And if she was telling the truth. . . the mob. . . Christ.

Quinn glanced at the clock. It was almost ten. Two hours to figure this out or Hynek was dead.

No other option. "Sit!" He pointed to the bed and she hopped on cross-legged without question. He sat across from her, one knee on the bed, the other foot on the floor. He held Hynek's notebook in one hand, then took hold of her with the other. "Make me see through his eyes."

"I can't –"

Seriously! "You've done it twice before, now do it again."

"Alright, I'll try." Cadence wiped her tear-filled eyes, then began breathing in a pattern that replicated the battle breathing he'd been taught in boot camp. She laid her left hand on the notebook and put her right palm over his heart. "Picture him in your mind. Picture him as clear as if he was standing right in front of you."

That was easy enough. He'd studied Hynek from all angles. The beautiful mind at the chalkboard in Lubbock. The peaceful, unconscious form in the hospital bed after the plane crash. Ouch. The gentle doctor who tended to the children's' wounds in Flatwoods. None of them were bad memories and yet each one felt like shrapnel digging in to his flesh. So he did what he always did when things got tough, he used his training to shut it down.

"What are you doing? " Her hand caressing his face before returning to his heart. "You're purposely blocking him?"

"I'm not," a lie. "It's just not working! You're doing something wrong!" Quinn broke contact with her and the book and the pain stopped instantly.

The tears were gone now, and her face was flat and cold. "You weren't expecting it before. You didn't have time to shut down. Now, you know what's coming and you can't bear it, can you? You want to take on his pain but you're afraid."

"I need a cigarette." He started to get up, but she caught his hand and held him back.

"I don't know what made you build this wall around your heart; your childhood, what you saw in the war. . . but if you want to save him, you have to let him in. I know how much you care."

Quinn stopped resisting and settled back. "He's my partner."

She laughed ever so slightly. "I've been in your head. I've been in his head. I know."

Quinn sucked in an enormous breath and raked his fingers through his hair. What was worse? Feeling Hynek's dying breath inside of him or never feeling him again? Either way, it would be a scar on his heart forever after. "I need to be with him. I'll do whatever it takes. Please, help me."

Cadence nodded. She scooted closer so their legs were touching. She picked up Quinn's left hand and set it on Hynek's notebook. She pressed his right hand to her heart, then she mirrored his position. "Picture him as close as I am to you and when you start to feel, let it flow over you. Whatever it is; pain, happiness, longing, fear – let it flow through you like air, over you like ocean waves."

Ocean waves.

He could smell the ocean. Salt mixed with decaying sea life and the grit of sand scratching your lungs. The water was cold. The space was cold. He was cold but it was the fear that gripped him. Worse than he'd ever felt before. Despair. Regrets. _So little time with Joel, maybe he won't even miss me._

Quinn shifted his legs desperate to shake out the aches. Fighting against a rising tide.

_You changed everything. Didn't see it coming. Didn't want it. Expect it. And then I can't sleep until I hear your voice. Such a fool. That you might. . . you could have shown me. . . taken me to the sky. She's some jet._

Quinn heard a laugh. Didn't know it had come from his own throat.

_Can you be jealous of an inanimate object? Oh yes. Passion for a plane. Cigarettes between your lips. You're not coming, are you? No last-minute movie rescue. Height of the water, speed of the rise, size of the room. I'm gonna die and you'll never know how you changed me. _

This time the sound was a growl that became a scream and then a sob. Quinn broke the connection and shot off the bed shaking like he was trying to get spiders off his clothes. "I can't. " He clamped his hand over his mouth as a wave of nausea rushed through his body.

"I'm so sorry." No crocodile tears this time. Just real ones. "This is all my fault."

"Yes it is!" He knew he sounded like a child on the playground – 'I know you are but what am I' but he wanted her to feel it, too. Feel the pain she'd brought on all of them. And now he had to block it out. He had to forget the clock and the emotions and things Hynek appeared to be thinking about the two of them. He had to focus on the facts. Use what you know. Put that god damn military training to good use.

Fact: the water was ocean water. Which meant the structure was near the beach.

Fact: the water was rising which meant the building wasn't always flooded. It was taking a hit due to the change in the ocean tides.

Fact: It was solid and empty, not a house. It had to be abandoned and easy to lock.

Add it up and what do you get? Hynek would be proud.

"I know where he is!"

"For sure. Really?"

"Not the exact place, but the kind of place. Get your shoes on, we're leaving."

# # # #

Forward motion now, that's the way he liked it. Quinn put on the shoulder holster, grabbed his jacket and slipped into his shoes.

Out of the room and down to the office where the same old desk clerk was sorting through the same mail. "Excuse me, you said you were in the Army, yes?"

The man looked up from his busy work, smiled at Quinn and smiled wider at Cadence. "Miss Caddy, haven't seen you for a while."

"The Army," Quinn said, pulling the man's attention back. "Are there bunkers on the beach around here?"

"Oh sure. Three or four, I think depending how far you want to go. First line of defense in case the Gerry's made it all the way to our shores. All abandoned now."

He had it right. Hynek was inside an abandoned World War 11 bunker. But which one? He didn't have time to check them all. "Is there a map? Do you know of one that gets flooded regularly?"

"Above my paygrade but let me think. . . "

Cadence pressed herself up against the desk. "Please, Mr. Manfred. It's so important."

"Tell you what you do? Go down Magnolia and turn left on Beach Blvd. Three lights down you'll see the Elks Lodge. All the old timers hang out there. One of them will know what you're looking for. They got a lot of time on their hands."

Only he didn't have a car. Hynek had driven theirs to the carnival the night before and presumably it was still there. "I need to borrow a car. Add it to my room tab, whatever you want. I need it now."

"Sure. Just gotta ask." The man handed over the keys from his pocket. "Burgundy De Soto right out front."

All too aware of the ticking clock, Quinn ran out of the office not worrying if Cadence followed or not. She did and was in the front seat with him by the time he started the car. She repeated the driving directions as needed and pointed out the lodge so he didn't miss it.

As Manfred noted, the place was filled with old men, some wearing old uniforms, sitting around swapping stories and playing cards. A couple were in wheelchairs. Others were sickly.

It was hard to see them as the soldiers who had served along side of Quinn in the war. They easily could have been his teachers, his mentors, or the everyday Joes who kept his plane maintained or put food in his belly when the day was done. Men who had put their lives on the line for the love of God and country. They deserved better.

No time for formalities. "Can I have your attention, please?" Quinn said in his best command voice. "I'm Captain Michael Quinn of the US Air Force. I regret that I've come to you out of uniform but soldier to soldier – I need your help."

Ten minutes later they were on their way with a hastily drawn map leading to the Strathmere Bay Bunker. Sgt. Sonny McPherson, retired, said The Army Corp of Engineers was no match for Mother Nature. A few years after the bunker was built, the sands shifted, and flood waters began taking over the building on a regular basis. It was abandoned and even though folks around town had been warned, they still lost two boys a year ago. Went into play and were overwhelmed by the unexpected ferocity of the Atlantic Ocean.

Not what Quinn wanted to hear but it did bolster his theory that Hynek was trapped in that very same bunker.

He drove until he ran out of road. The map showed a small boardwalk running parallel to the road, ten yards of beach after that before hitting ocean. The bunker, a small square on the map lay about half way between the boardwalk and ocean. That's what the drawing showed. That didn't match what they saw.

Quinn jumped out of the car and landed in water up to his ankles. "Damn it!"

The boardwalk was underwater. The beach was nowhere to be seen and violent waves were pounding against the back side of the concrete box that had once been part of America's first line of defense against invading Nazis.

Quinn took off his jacket and shoes so he could move more freely, then reluctantly added his holstered gun to the pile on the car seat. He sprinted through what was soon calf high water to the bunker's entrance.

Padlocked.

He shouted to Cadence to check the trunk for a tire iron, then he waded around the sides hoping to find another way in. There had to be a window for a gun mount on the ocean side. That meant getting deeper into the soup. Quinn waded into waters that now rose to mid chest. He followed the line of the building and found the gun mount opening which had been coved over with a thick piece of metal grating.

"NO!" Quinn stuck his fingers in the grate and pulled with all his might but it didn't budge. He pressed his face to the metal grid and what he saw both bolstered and scared him. Hynek up to his neck in water, alive but struggling to stay that way.

"Doc! I'm here! Hang on!" Hynek didn't reply or react. Not surprising since the ocean sounds were magnified inside the solid concrete chamber.

Not getting out this way. It had to be the door.

Quinn fought the tide on his way back around and it was exhausting. His soaked jeans felt like lead weights attached to his legs and long strands of seaweed captured his ankles. And it was cold. He was feeling it now that his t-shirt was soaked and clinging to his skin.

When he reached what should have been beach level, Cadence was nowhere to be seen. A flash of anger warmed him for a moment, then he fell back into despair knowing that meant he'd have to make it to the car to get the tire iron.

Clock ticking.

He made it past the entrance when someone called his name. He turned too quickly. The sand slipped under his feet and he landed on one hip in time for a wave to crash over his head. He came back gasping and saw Cadence in front of the bunker door. The water was around her hips but the building was shielding her from the devilish waves. She had the tire iron jammed into the space between the structure and the padlock hasp and was fighting to pry it loose.

Quinn struggled to his feet and let the receding tide drag him forward until he hit the building with outstretched palms.

"It's coming loose, but I can't pull anymore." She stepped aside to give Quinn some elbow room. He took hold of the top of the tire iron and pulled using his foot against the wall as leverage. He felt a little give, then a little more as the old bolts holding the latch in place gave up the fight.

"I saw him," Quinn said with what little breath he had left. "Water up to his chin. I tried to. . . " He put the rest of his effort into a final pull. The bolts fell away. Quinn yanked the door open and was hit with another rush of water, this time from inside trying to get out. "Hold the door open."

Quinn waded forward taking a moment to get his bearings in the dim light. No Hynek. "Doc!"

He dived under the water and found his partner there; thrashing, twisting, exhausting himself in the fight to get back to the surface; to get air into his lungs. Quinn closed the distance between them in three, long strokes. He wrapped one arm around Hynek's chest then swam toward what he hoped was the surface. It was dark in the concrete room and the water was disorienting. He was almost out of breath himself when he broached the surface. His lungs automatically filled with air, but he didn't hear Hynek do the same.

Come on, Doc. Come on, Doc. Don't do this to me.

Quinn swam as hard and fast as he could with one arm around Hynek's chest. Five minutes earlier, he thought his strength was sapped but when he hit the opening to the bunker his body caught up with his mind and he collapsed.

Cadence grabbed hold of Hynek's shirt and pulled him as best she could through the doorway leaving Quinn to crawl, stumble, walk on his own. Once he got his feet under him, he was able to join her in the last struggle to get the professor to dry land.

Hynek wasn't moving, coughing, or breathing.

Quinn fell to his knees beside his partner and pulled Hynek's limp body into his arms. "Breath, damn it!" He shook him, repositioned him, all while desperately trying to remember any first aid training he'd had that dealt with drowning. Nothing came to mind except water out and air in.

"I can't lose you. Not now. Come on, doc. Breath!"

His reward for such a plea was an ugly wheezing sound and moments later a hard, choking gasp as water came up and out of Hynek's lungs. Quinn held on through the spasms and after forever, the coughing ended and the breathing slowed to normal.

"You found me," Hynek said around one last wheezing breath and then he started to shiver uncontrollably.

"Yeah, I found you." Quinn was sorely tempted to lay down on the sidewalk beside him and sleep for the next two days, but Cadence was tugging at his shirt, pulling it up and over his head. That's when he realized that the shaking he was feeling wasn't just Hynek trembling in his arms. His own muscles were seizing up.

"Get that wet shirt off him," Cadence said her voice trailing off as she moved out of sight.

Hynek's jacket and tie were already gone so Quinn set to work on the buttons of his shirt, only his fingers wouldn't cooperate. God damnit. He squeezed his hands into fists and worked his fingers to warm them, to stop the shakes. Better idea: he took hold of the two sides of the shirt and ripped. A step forward, but that still left him to deal with the cuff buttons. Details. Details. The devil was in the details.

Cadence returned with a thick, handmade quilt. "Saw it in the trunk when I got the tire iron. Come on, we gotta get you guys warm."

With her help, Quinn got Hynek and himself on to their feet. She draped the quilt over Hynek's shoulders then they dragged themselves to the car.

"Get in the back seat with him. I'll drive."

Too tired to argue, Quinn slid into the back, his wet jeans catching and pulling against the leather seat as he scooted over. He sat sideways so Hynek was up against him, his back to Quinn's chest. Then Cadence rearranged the blanket so it covered them both. For a brief moment she had a hand on each of them and again Quinn was hit with a flash of images. No, not really visions this time. More like a wave of emotions, but not the joy and relief that was to be expected. Instead he felt something akin to grief. A soul-sucking sadness. Dejected. Disheartened. Comfortless and other feelings so quixotic that he couldn't name them as they rolled through his body.

Cadence let go and the wash of emotions went with her but now it felt as if Hynek was trying to put physical space between himself and his partner.

Quinn wasn't having it. "Feel what you want, Doc, I'm not letting go."

# # #

The return to the hotel was a slight variation of the night before. Now, instead of Cadence as the groggy zombie, it was Hynek who had slowly come around to the point of being able to walk on his own.

One day? Not even. How could that be?

Quinn offered Hynek the support of his arm as they climbed the stairs, but the professor brushed him off leaving Quinn even more mystified. What the hell was this? After what he'd felt in the vision. What he'd heard from the Doc's mind. He was sure he hadn't misinterpreted the meaning, but he didn't have a lot of experience translating psychic visions. Maybe they weren't as dead on as they seemed? Maybe some of Cadence's own feelings had made their way into the mix?

That thought left him oddly disappointed.

Without saying a word, Hynek went straight to the bathroom, stopping only to scoop up his travel case with clean clothes.

"You should get out of those wet jeans before you catch your death of cold," said Cadence.

"Ah, you just want to see me strip." He was going for joke, but it fell flat. "I want to thank you for everything you did today. Not just the mind thing, but the door, the blanket. I wasn't very nice to you and you didn't have to help, but you did."

"It was the least I could do, considering it was my stupidity that nearly got the Professor killed."

Quinn shook his head. He threw his jacket and his holster on to the bed. Wanted to sit but not in wet pants. "It wasn't stupidity. You did what you had to do. We've all done things we had to." He fished in his jacket for a cigarette but came up with only an empty pack. Crap. He crumpled the package in his hand then threw it on to the bedside table. "If you went back now, would you be safe?"

"Back? To the carnival? Yes, I suppose. I'm a valuable asset. As long as I keep playing along, they won't hurt me. Why? I thought I was going with you."

Quinn sighed and stretched and shook out his still cold hands. "That wouldn't be much of a reward for your heroics. I've seen what they do the special ones and it's not pretty. Go back to the carnival, but for god's sake, keep the actual mindreading to a minimum, will ya? Stay off the front page."

"I can do that."

He waved toward the door, signaling that she was free to leave. "And Cadence, if you ever need help, you know how to reach me."

She went to the door, stopped then took a step toward him. "Now I see it. Why he cares so much." She set a kiss on his cheek. "Have a nice life, Quinn."

"Right back at ya." Then she was gone.

Next order of business.

Quinn stripped off his wet jeans, used a blanket as an ineffective towel, then redressed in a clean uniform shirt and pants. Hynek was taking a long time in the bathroom and he wondered if he should check on him. Knock on the door at the very least. But by the time he had his socks and shoes on, Hynek emerged in his civilian uniform: a long sleeve, plain white shirt and dark trousers.

"I was starting to worry about you in there," Quinn said, trying to keep it light.

"I am capable of changing my clothes without falling down or drowning in the sink." Hynek plopped down on the side of the bed and dropped his head into his hands.

"What's going on with you?" Any other day, there's be anger in Quinn's tone in response to Hynek's snappish retort but not today. Not after what he'd felt in the car. He sat down beside his friend and partner, close enough so their legs were touching and this time Hynek didn't try to avoid the contact. "Talk to me." A request, not an order.

"How did you find me?" Hynek asked, eyes locked on a spot on the ugly and worn, motel rug.

He considered lying because after all of this, Quinn realized how intrusive, how personal, the meeting of their minds had been. But they'd done so much damage with the lies of the past. Time to come clean.

"Cadence did this trick where she fixed it so I could see through your eyes. Wild, huh? But it worked. I saw where you were. Figured out it was a bunker and there you go."

"Just see? Nothing else?"

Quinn chewed his bottom lip as he stared at his own spot on the carpet.

"No. It was more than that. I could feel what was going on inside your head. Bits and pieces, not always complete. Like messages over a radio that keeps cutting out."

"I thought so." Hynek sniffed, shivered and let out a long breath. "There were times when I felt like you were there with me. It should have made me feel better. Given me the strength to hang on. But honestly, it just made things worse because I knew you weren't coming. You couldn't give them Cadence. You didn't have a chance in hell of finding the location. Having you so close and still so far out of reach. I never felt so alone in all my life. It was terrifying."

Quinn swallowed hard to rid his throat of the lump that had formed there. He gripped Hynek's arm where it rested on his thigh. "If I thought giving them the girl would insure your safety, I would have done it. In a heartbeat, but I couldn't trust them." His voice was measured, deep and thick with emotion. "But know this, if her way hadn't worked, I would have torn this town to the ground to find you." Pause. No reaction. "Doc, look at me." And when he didn't, Quinn took Hynek's chin in his hand and turned his head until their eyes met. "Now listen to me. I will ALWAYS find you. And from now on, I'm going do a better job of protecting you. That's my end of this partnership."

"And what's my end?" Hynek asked softly.

"I already told you. You keep me honest. You make me a better man. And one more thing. Whatever THIS is –"

Hynek broke his gaze, forcefully turning his head back to center. Did that deter Quinn? No. He got off the bed and dropped to his knees in front of Allen Hynek. His partner. His friend. He leaned in until his forehead contacted with Hynek's bowed head and whispered, "whatever this is between us. . . . I'm in."

Hynek put his hands on Quinn's shoulders and pushed him away. "You don't know what you're saying!" Awkwardly, he got up and half climbed over the Captain in a hurry to put distance between them. "You weren't supposed to hear those things. Those were MY thoughts. Mine. I didn't want you to know me that way; weak and helpless."

Quinn got to his feet but kept the distance between them. "Don't do this. You almost died. I saw that in my head. Not a natural causes, old age, fade away peacefully in your sleep kind of death. But a horrible, plenty of time to suffer before it's over kind of death and it scared the hell out of me, so I can't even imagine—"

"No, you can't imagine, because that's not you. The brave soldier who rushes in to danger –"

"Says the man who tried to extinguish a flaming Fuller! Stop this!" Quinn closed the space between them and again Hynek backed away but this time he was literally back to the wall.

"I don't want you to be embarrassed for me! To think less of me!" Hynek shouted, slapping his palms back against the wall. "To see me as something less than a man!"

Quinn was stunned into silence, his mouth dropped open, no sound coming out. And then, "I've said it before, and I'll say it again. You are the dumbest genius, I've ever met."

"Oxymoron," said Hynek involuntarily.

"Oxy what?"

"A figure of speech where contradictory terms appear in conjunction. Dumb genius."

Quinn rolled his eyes. "Doc, I'll make you a deal. You stop hammering on yourself and I'll – if you really want me to – I'll forget every word I heard when I was crawling around in that dizzy head of yours." He took a chance with a step forward. Barely an arm's length between them now. "But before you say do it, understand this. I can erase what I heard, what I felt from you, but that won't change how I feel ABOUT you. You are an aggravating, self-absorbed, know-it-all with obsessive compulsive tendencies, a severe lack of social skills and an inability to take no for an answer."

Not what Hynek was expecting and it showed on his face.

Quinn stepped again, closing the space between them to only inches. "You are also the only person on this planet – or any other – that I trust to watch my back and keep my secrets. You are the only person I willing let see me when I'm not spit-shined and on point. You keep me moving forward. You make me laugh when I least expect it. You make me want to come to work everyday and you make me hate going home alone at night."

"Quinn—"

Quinn held up his hand to stop him. "Hang on. Here's the kicker. The important one. If told you that I did terrible things during the war, that I tortured people for information. That I tortured human beings." Oh god, he'd never heard his own voice say those words. "Would you look at me differently?"

Hynek swallowed hard, tried to speak but went with a gentle swing of his head and a silently mouthed, 'no'.

"You're a better man that you think you are. And there's nothing in this world that you could do or say, that would make me think less of you." He stepped closer still. "For better or worse, we're partners. Or are you going to quit on me again?"

Hynek smiled slightly as his body relaxed into the wall. "Quit on you, Captain? It never entered my mind."

The End


End file.
